See Jesus – In Others
Welcome, or welcome back to these 4-minute posts written to help us grow. I usually set my fiction writing aside during Lent, but this year, I will illustrate one aspect of “seeing Jesus” with excerpts from my work-in-progress novel, Jesus’ Joy. In the story, we meet a terminally ill, elderly patient who is dictating stories of his life that tell how he came to see Jesus. He begins when he was a young boy visited by the Virgin Mary in a dream.
| When I was seven, I awoke one night with a start. A strange woman stood at the foot of my bed. She smiled at me, and then I wasn’t afraid. Such a sweet smile couldn’t mean anyone any harm. A blue scarf covered most of her hair, and she wore a blue top and white pants, all very loose and flowy. “Frank,” she said. I nodded, still not quite convinced this was real, or whether this was a stranger I wasn’t supposed to talk to. “Frank, you are a very lucky boy. Very blessed. You will see my son Jesus soon! He won’t look like you expect, but know He loves you very much.” Then I blinked, and she was gone. What did she mean, soon? This was definitely a mama question. I found my mother in the kitchen, getting our lunches ready for the next day, and told her what had happened. Mama was a calm person, not upset very easily, but she looked worried, or maybe scared. “You must have had a very realistic dream,” she said. She took me to the couch and pulled me onto her lap. “Tell me about it again,” she said, and I did. While I talked, her face drained color to a kind of whitish grey. Mama took a deep breath, and her face took on more color. “I know what this is,” she said. “You’ve been preparing to make your First Communion. Either you dreamed about meeting Jesus in this very special way”—I started to protest that it couldn’t have been a dream—“or,” she quickly added, “maybe the Virgin Mary really did come to remind you how blessed you are to be receiving Him soon into your body and soul.” Ten days later I knelt in church with my Communion class, waiting for the time to receive Jesus into my heart. I looked across the aisle at others in my class and saw my friend Evan, who was aglow with a beam of sunlight from the stained-glass window. Evan was darker than me, and I had thought before about how Jesus, as a boy, might have looked like this friend. But now, with the light making his hair shine like a halo, I remembered Mary telling me I would see her Son soon. Was this what she meant? Evan was a nice kid, but he wasn’t Jesus. At least I didn’t think he was. Could Jesus be one of my classmates? After the lector had read from the Old Testament and the choir had sung the responsorial psalm, I looked again at Evan, but the light beam had moved. Now it was illuminating the girl next to Evan, named Marcie. Marcie’s hair glowed like a halo, too, and in her white dress and veil she looked very angelic, but I knew differently. She was a bully, and I had learned to keep a good distance from her to avoid her teasing and mocking. No, the light beam definitely wasn’t showing me who Jesus was, if that’s what it was trying to do. I drew my attention back to the lector, who had finished the second reading, taken from the New Testament parts that weren’t the Gospels. I felt bad for letting my mind wander. This was a very important day. When it was my turn to receive, I saw and tasted bread and wine, but my faith eyes knew I had received Jesus. I’d be able to have Communion from now on, taking Jesus into my heart and body. I’d have Jesus inside me. That gave me a new thought. So would everyone in my class, even Marcie. I wouldn’t actually see Jesus when I looked at them, but Jesus would be there, inside each of them. Inside of me, too. My heart surged a beat at that thought. I wanted to keep Jesus inside me always. I wanted to remember that Jesus was inside everyone else, too. I’d need to remember to use my faith eyes to see Jesus in people. Had I seen Jesus, like Mary told me I would? I watched the rest of the church file up to receive Communion. When the procession to the altar had ended, I looked across the aisle and saw Marcie smiling with her eyes closed. Jesus was inside her. Evan was grinning as he looked up at a statue. Jesus was inside him. Most of my classmates were smiling. I wondered why I hadn’t seen any of the adults smile. Didn’t they realize what a gift they’d been given? Maybe it was hard to remember how special Communion is since they could do it every week, or even every day. That was another thing I told myself I’d have to remember when I grew up, to smile after Communion because God is inside me, and God loves me deeply. Jesus loves everyone enough to give them a chance to be one with Him in such a simple but deep way. That was the day I began trying to see Jesus in everyone. Betty here again. Let’s try, like Frank, to see Jesus in everyone around us. Not just the Evans that look like Jesus might have, but also the Marcies, who require more effort as we look beyond their behavior to the inner person who might be striking out from woundedness. May God bless your week. |
Tags: Self-Improvement, Spirituality
Seeing Jesus, Spirituality | Betty | 
February 16, 2024 11:57 am | 
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